


A Sky Full of Stars

by Beabaseball (beabaseball)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Dark Premise, Gen, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-06-01 15:32:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15146183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beabaseball/pseuds/Beabaseball
Summary: Role Reversal AU.The stars have long been put out.If nothing changes, it's only a matter of time before this one is, too.





	1. Roxas

Looking back, he surely noticed something before the voice, but whatever it was, it didn’t stay in his memory the same way. So that was his earliest memory, where other people had memories of carnivals where they were asked their age (“two,” they said, holding up three fingers) or birthdays with kites, or sitting with their parents in the living room–

He remembers the voice, first.

“Finally. He’s awake.”

A man wrapped in red cloth. Red bandages. A golden eye.

He doesn’t remember if he could speak back then, or what he said if he could. He doesn’t remember if he woke with or without clothes. If he could stand on the first day, or if it took weeks.

He just remembers gloves touching his face, turning his head to look at the bandaged man, and being examined like that. And his name, in that voice.

“You’ve kept us waiting too long, Roxas.”

–

The place they make him is called Twilight Town. The place they move him to right after is a tower.

He thinks it’s in the same world, but he isn’t entirely sure.

For a long time there, he isn’t really sure of anything. But he has a keybalde, and he has a name, and eventually– he has a friend.

And things get a little clearer after that.

“Hey,” Axel says, finding him on the top of Yen Sid’s tower once more, and shuffling to sit beside him off the edge of the stone bannister. “Nice job in there today. You work up an appetite?”

He holds out a stick of popsicle, the wrapper still on.

Roxas takes it from the top of the popsicle at first, the wrong side, and Axel twists his own wrist around to correct him as if it’s happened lots of times before. But Roxas remembers this time. He takes it by the stick-end. He can feel it through the wrapper, crinkling around the wood. He holds it for a moment, and then pinches the top with his free hand. He rips open the plastic with his teeth.

“Haha, guess that’s a yes, then,” Axel says, and Roxas knows that name and tired huff of a laugh as easily as if he’d known Axel his whole life. And maybe he did. He doesn’t remember being told Axel’s name, except in jokes and casual conversation, but he’d always already known it before it was brought up.

Like he’d always known DiZ’s name. Like he’d always known Xehanort called DiZ ‘Ansem,’ and to never go onto the train that sometimes came to the castle, and to never go into basements, and how to summon a keyblade to his hand.

Even here on the castle, holding an icecream, he could summon a keyblade to his hand.

But instead, he ate icecream, and stared up at a the infinite dark above them.

–

“The Keyblade,” DiZ explains in training, “Is our greatest asset. With it, we may be able to recover the worlds that have been lost to darkness. But it will be impossible if you do not possess the means to bind it to your will.”

This is sort of a stupid thing to say, Roxas thinks. And then he says it, because the filter between his mouth and his brain has never been very large. “I know what I’m doing.”

The keyblade’s as easy as breathing to him. And DiZ scowls behind bandages (it twists them up around his neck) and flicks out a wrist as he tells Roxas to “be silent,” as if he has some magic that will actually make that work.

If _Yen Sid_ told Roxas to be silent, it might’ve worked. But DiZ always tells people to be silent. As if he’s important.

“The fate of our worlds rests in the hands of a child,” DiZ laments very loudly in front of him as Roxas does more training exercises.

Hit the dummy? Okay. Hit the dummy. It’s better when Yen Sid or Merlin make the dummies fly. Make it interesting.

He’s done this his whole life. He’s bored.

“Did you hear me, Roxas?” DiZ says.

“Yeah,” Roxas says, not really listening to the question. But it sure was probably a question, since it ended in his name. So he should probably say ‘yeah.’

(Whatever.)

 _Whatever_. If he thought DiZ would throw something at him, or do anything other than talk him to death, maybe he’d _care_ , but he’s ready for today’s training session to end so he can go up on the roof and–

DiZ doesn’t throw anything, but he grabs Roxas’ arm mid-swing, and the sudden block in the middle of his upper arm almost yanks his shoulder out.

“Fuck!” he says, which is a word Briag usually is the one using. But DiZ doesn’t do anything but yank his arm harder, and send Roxas tumbling back on his heels before hauling him to the window.

“Do you not _see?_ ” DiZ asks, his voice unusually low, unusually rough. “Is it such a strain to even feign urgency in these dire times? You are our only hope, and you cannot even muster a–”

“ _What?”_ Roxas shouts, face shoved against the glass, cheek twisting and eyes squinting, and unable to stop his back from tightening far too tight with DiZ’s gloved hand in his hair. “What am I supposed to be seeing?”

“The _Stars_ you brainless imbecile. Do you not _see?_ The _stars_.”

–

“‘What’s a star?’” Axel repeats the question back at him, surprised, and hand still extended with a popsicle. Roxas takes it from the same end Axel’s holding it from. The part where the wood comes out, where the plastic crinkles around. And Axel watches as he tears the plastic off, like he’s thinking hard too.

(“you’ve been talkin’ a lot more, lately,” Axel told him the other day, and ran a gloved hand through his hair. Kinder. Infinitely different than DiZ had done today.)

“Uh, geez, kiddo. Well.” Axel leans back towards the roof, gaze turning skyward. “Let’s see if we can find one… look for a tiny little light in the sky. Not the moon, no, put your hand down. A star’s _way_ smaller than a moon.”

“…where are they usually?” Roxas asks.

“The sky,” Axel says. “You used to see a ton at nighttime. Now, not so much.”

“How come?”

“Keyblade,” Axel says.

“Keyblade?” Roxas lifts his free hand and summons it.

“Yeah,” Axel says, even though he doesn’t say anything about Roxas summoning it, or how it made the stars go out. “Apparently, way back when, every star used to be a world. Like the one we’re on right now.”

Sounds fake. “…with ice cream?”

Axel laughs.

“Oh boy. I hope. I’d hate to think of a world without ice cream.”

–

Xehanort calls Roxas down to the basement, which is just… super the opposite of what he wanted his day to be, honestly.

Xehanort is old, older than even Ansem, and also what Larxene calls a Dick.

Xehanort is a Dick.

(he is not allowed to say this in front of Xehanort, because unlike DiZ, Xehanort _will_ throw things at him, and absolutely no one will stop laughing to help him.)

“Well now,” Xehanort says, leaning down like a fistfull of wilting pasta to reach Roxas’ height. He had the voice of ice going through a blender and the breath of last night’s garlic dish, wrapped up in a too-tall corn stalk with brown eyes that almost completely hid his pupils. “It’s been a while. Good to see you once more, Roxas.”

“Uh, hi,” Roxas said, trying not to squint against his breath.

“Come now, come,” Xehanort turned, hunchin his way back towards his wall of blinking computers and machines, wires and suction cups, and his row of tanks going back into the wall. “We’ve got tests to run.”

“Mmhm,” Roxas replied with All His Enthusiasm, following along, but doing so at least partly because DiZ was coming along behind him, and Roxas didn’t want DiZ close to his back.

He shuffled up to the reclining metal chair Xehanort gestured to and tugged off his shirt when he was instructed. He sat back and laid down, moving his hands to the armrests to be secured.

Above him was a large round light and a fuckload of wires all tied up in neat, tubular knots.

“Very good,” Xehanort croons at him, and wearing his gloves, attaches little suctiony-wires to his head, brushing his hair back as he does so to give them a clear grip. He puts them on Roxas’ temples first, then his forehead. His nose. His chin. Then, down onto his chest. One over his heart. Three down his sternum to his naval.

He puts a pressure cuff over Roxas’ right arm.

Roxas tries to keep his breathing steady, even though nothing hurts.

It never really hurts.

It’s just… bright. And cold. And Xehanort is touching him with gloved hands, until he’s not, and he’s stepping back down from the metal recliner, and Roxas is left alone under the bright light.

It’s hard to exist under there. Unable to turn his head without upsetting the wires. Without getting harsh glare in his eyes. Without giving in to the feeling of being _w a t c h e d_ …

Xehanort sighs over the buzz of computers. Over the hum of the computer’s analysis. He doesn’t know when it started, or if it ever turns off. He can’t turn his head to see what they’re saying without disrupting the wires on his head and Xehanort getting mad at him.

“Blast it!”

DiZ slams his hands down against something.

Roxas’ heart rate picks up. (The machine beeps faster.) The pressure cuff tightens.

“After all this…” Xehanort says from the same direction, “Ventus is still lost to us.”

“Their appearances were so similar this time…” DiZ’s voice is a low mutter, but it’s deep and smooth as ever. It still carries, familiar and unavoidable across the room. “I had hoped…”

He doesn’t see what stops DiZ from continuing.

“It appears, we can no longer pretend to understand what it is a keyblade seeks in its user,” Xehanort says, and lets out a… laugh. Something halting and unhappy, and bitterly amused. “It’s time to admit that Ventus may be lost to us forever. We should hope to nurture the keyblade we have for now.”

He hears footsteps coming towards him.

His heart rate increases.

The pressure cuff tightens.

“I doubt even the worlds near the dark will be safe for much longer.”

–

Roxas is on the roof, already holding a popsicle.

Axel is with him.

And they stare together into the infinite dark.

“…hey, Axel,” Roxas asks, his voice flat and cold as the table he still feels against his back. “…why are you here?”

“Hm?” Axel asks, looking over at Roxas. Roxas doesn’t look back. He just catches the movement out of the corner of his eye. That Axel turns to look at him. “Whad’ya mean?”

“…Why are you here?” Roxas asks again, because he can think of no other way to phrase it. “Why are people here besides me and DiZ and Xehanort?”

He’s the only one the two take interest in. He knows it’s Yen Sid’s castle. But.  
  
There are others. Eleven others. Maybe not ones he sees often. Maybe they help Xehanort and DiZ some, but– others, all the same.

None with keyblades. Some who still use the training room, but they all get shooed out whenever Roxas comes in, unless DiZ wants them to fight with him in a duel. But that’s not often.

And he doesn’t know why they’re here, in a world that seems so small.

And why in this kind of world, Axel still finds ways to get them popsicles.

“…’cause we’re Nobodies, too,” Axel says after a while. “You know what those are, right?”

…Roxas knows that’s the Name of people, yes.

“No. Nobodies are _shells_ of people,” Axel tells him. “Me, Saix, Demyx, we used to be real people. We died. And Xehanort and Ansem brought us back like this.”

Oh.

Roxas finds it in him to move his head. To look at Axel. He doesn’t break any wires when he does so.  
  
“…why?” he asks.

  
“…to practice for making you, eventually, I guess.”  
  
“…”

Roxas doesn’t know what to say about that, and Axel just folds an arm behind his head and leans back towards the castle again, sliding himself between the banister and the roofing tile enough to kick up his feet and lean his head back and relax without any fear of falling.

“I mean. Some of us were their old assistants. But some of us were just from around. But he caught bits of our hearts when our world ended, and practiced bringing us back as Nobodies. Apparently, we’re pretty different from what they remember us bein’, but..”

(Roxas is looking at him now, and he cannot miss the way Axel’s eye darts over for just a moment. Involuntary, even)

“…I guess that’s not really a problem overall.”

….

“Axel?” Roxas says.

“Yeah?” Axel asks.

“Who did _I_ used to be?”

And Axel sighs.

He points up at the infinite dark.

“Roxas. … You helped put the stars out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to work out my fic anxiety apparently
> 
> this is meant to be viable as a one-shot. I have things i'd be interested in with continuing it, but... interest would be really appreciated, as well as ideas on where to start with that.
> 
> based on the picture from chabebe on tumblr, but they appear to have deleted their blog, so I can only link to it from my own reblog. I'm sorry about that! http://beabaseball.tumblr.com/post/175330336763/chababe-an-au-where-destiny-trio-is-the-main
> 
>  
> 
> https://youtu.be/wm59mcUEnhE


	2. Axel

…

The name is Ventus. 

Ventus is, and is not, a person. 

Ventus  _ was _ , certainly, a person, at one point. 

Now, it is a question of if death is the only end of personhood, or is there another way to be completely erased. 

(the answer is ‘yes.’ The word is ‘Nobody.’)

A list of what Ventus is not:

A nobody.

A heartless.

A person.

Anymore. 

A list of what Ventus  _ might  _ be:

A foolish dream. 

A fragile hope. 

A dead boy. 

A keyblade master. 

…

In his last known whereabouts, a young keyblade master visited Radiant Garden at the day and hour of its collapse. 

He struggled to assure the safety of a young princess of heart, as a good keyblade warrior should, and like a failure, vanished alongside her, into the darkness. 

A list of what Ventus might be: 

A failure. 

A lost cause. 

The death of them all. 

Their only chance.   


\--

A list of what Roxas is not: 

Ventus.

This is his greatest flaw, in the eyes of DiZ. 

\--

Axel is number eight. Saix was above him when he first opened his eyes, and able to say, “Hello. We used to be friends in our past lives.”

The warmth didn’t really seem to carry over to this life, but very little seemed to, it turned out. Axel didn’t remember their old life, but he remembered what feelings probably felt like. He knew how to laugh and move among people, and how to make jokes to diffuse situations, and everyone else knew how to accept that and move away, even if not all of them felt the echoes of laughter in their chests. 

Axel knew he was a fake person before he’d ever heard the word ‘Nobody.’

Maybe that was because of who was already ‘alive’ when he first opened his eyes. Zexion was perhaps the closest in age to them; maybe Xehanort and DiZ were just trying to bring back the adults back before kids in hopes of not fucking them up spectacularly. 

They could probably count that as… kind of working? 

Xigbar and Lexaeus, Vexen and Xaldin, he had no idea what kinds of people they were before they’d died, but he was kind of hoping no one was really ever as bloodthirsty as Xigbar, or as jittery as Vexen. Zexion never strayed far from Lexaeus and honestly… 

Axel was absolutely 100% more responsible for how Demyx turned out than any lingering sense of self that was inside the husk that woke up on the table as number nine. 

...he’d been ‘excited’ to have someone closer to his and Saix’s age finally. 

They went through the usual series of tests to try and see how well anything had worked out in the revival process, what weird powers and quirks had come through instead of a personality half the time, and Axel…. Absolutely demolished that process by feeding Demyx a series of bad jokes, a scavenged band TV show that lasted seven seasons, and showing him early how to turn his water element into  _ something  _ like how Axel used his fire--and somehow, he’d been surprised when Demyx, who hadn’t even really learned how to fight yet, summoned up a musical instrument instead of a weapon.

Axel was banned from interacting with the fresh meat now. 

...that was probably a good thing, when it was Luxord who came next. And then Marluxia.

And then Larxene. 

If he could’ve felt anything he would be pretty sure he hated more people here the more who showed up. If he’d understood math, he’d have maybe realized the connection of  _ more people here  _ and  _ more people to hate _ .

But he doesn’t hate Demyx. And he doesn’t…. Dislike Saix.

...But it’s when Roxas is brought up from that lab emptier and more off-balance than any of the others that Axel feels the first of what he recognizes as emotion. Pity. Sympathy?

(but if Axel had understood emotion, he’d have realized that anger and disgust were emotions, too.)

Roxas is brought from the Twilight Town labs to be trained, but within a few sessions, Xehanort skulks back to the lab declaring him a failure, and DiZ is not the fighter Xehanort is. Axel volunteers to help, despite DiZ’s suspicion. He is told he is not allowed to ruin this one the way he ruined Demyx.

Axel is pretty sure Demyx is literally the most tolerable person here, but he pretends to agree all the same, and doesn’t skewer the weaponless kid on his chakrams the way he’s pretty sure Xehanort would’ve encouraged him to had he been there. But Axel doesn’t skewer defenseless kids (he’s pretty sure) and he doesn’t follow orders all that well.

Once DiZ finally calls the session done and sends Roxas back to his quarters, Axel kidnaps the kid a little bit, and takes him to the top of the tower, and offers him, for the first time, icecream.

\--

It is the eighth session that Roxas covers his face to cower from Larxene (once Axel had been deemed too soft) when a beam of light shoots from his hand, and for a moment, the first of Larxene’s knives are deflected. 

The second and third ones hit their mark in his stomach and leg, of course, and DiZ hurries in with a potion faster than usual. 

There is a blade in Roxas’ hand. There is a little bit of light in Roxas’ eyes. 

“Ventus?” DiZ says. 

But Roxas doesn’t react to the name, and DiZ curses him again. 

They resume the session. They teach him how to fight. 

( _ “We must surely be getting through to him _ ,” DiZ says.)

(They are not.)

\--

When Axel sneaks Roxas up to the observatory that night, Yen Sid holds open the door for them, and asks Axel to lock up behind him when they’re done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a very short update while i get my fanfics confused


End file.
